Luke Wrenn, the scout who recommended David Eckstein to the Red Sox, recalls standing in his garage in Lakeland, Fla., talking on the phone with Eckstein’s father, Whitey, offering congratulations of a sort.
THE SOX HAD just selected Eckstein, then a second baseman from the University of Florida, in the 19th round of the 1997 draft. But Wrenn doubted Eckstein ever would play for Boston and never imagined the diminutive infielder would assume his current role as starting shortstop for the playoffs-bound Angels.
Wrenn told Eckstein’s father, “He’ll be able to come help out in the minor leagues, play four to five years in the minors and end up being a coach somewhere or even a manager.”
“I hope not,” Whitey Eckstein replied. “I want him to play in the major leagues.”
Wrenn, now with the Diamondbacks, was neither the first baseball man nor the last to be wrong about David Eckstein, a 5-8 — maybe — 165-pound throwback who received no Division I scholarship offers, merited only a $1,000 signing bonus and was waived by the Red Sox in August 2000.
Eckstein, 27, is an ant who can’t be crushed, a player who does nothing well yet everything well, the improbable motor of an improbable Angels team.
“It just shows that if you work your butt off and completely dedicate yourself, you can make it,” Eckstein says.
Says Wrenn, who previously had signed Mike Hampton for the Mariners and Nomar Garciaparra for the Red Sox, “He taught me a lesson. I’ll never sell anybody short who has a big heart.”
Eckstein might lack stature, but he grows on people. His concentration is as rare as his determination, and his baseball IQ astonishes teammates. He quotes rules, detects when pitchers are tipping pitches, even steals signs.
“He has one extraordinary tool,” Angels manager Mike Scioscia says. “His brain.”
Eckstein’s hands are so small, he occasionally throws with three fingers instead of the customary two. His throwing motion is so unorthodox he can’t bear to watch himself on video. Yet he makes almost all the plays at shortstop, a position he did not play regularly until last season.
As a leadoff hitter, Eckstein is even more improvisational. He has been hit by pitches 27 times, most in the majors. He ranks third in the A.L. with infield hits. He’s proficient at squeeze bunts, but he also has hit three grand slams and has driven in 63 runs, third among A.L. leadoff men. Oh, yes, he also has stolen 21 bases, and the Angels were 63-20 in the regular season when he scores a run.
“It seems like he’s up every inning,” Orioles bench coach Sam Perlozzo says.
“I hate it when he comes to bat,” says A’s second baseman Mark Ellis, a former college teammate of Eckstein’s at Florida.
Not bad for a player who never was considered a prospect, his father recalls, “except maybe to be a batboy.”
“You watch him one day, and he doesn’t do any one thing special to pop your eyes out,” Orioles manager Mike Hargrove says. “But you watch him every day, and you like him. He’s got one speed: all-out.”
ALL IN THE FAMILY
Eckstein, the youngest of five children, was a two-time academic All-American at Florida. His parents are public school teachers in Sanford, Fla. His oldest brother and oldest sister are attorneys.
Success is a family trait, not an accident.
“My whole thing is discipline,” Whitey Eckstein says. “To be successful in the big leagues, you have to have faith in the coach. If he tells you to do something, you do it. Don’t pout. That’s the first rule in our house. If they ever pout, I’m looking for them. And I’ll get ‘em.”
The no-complaint philosophy was tested when Eckstein’s oldest brother, Ken, and sisters Christine and Susan required kidney transplants for a condition for which David and his other brother, Rick, tested negative. But the family outlook helps explain why a player slighted as often as Eckstein isn’t obsessed with settling old scores. The Ecksteins tend to look at things more positively. “His first baseball card said that he was a 5-foot-8 smurf,” Rick says. “I said, ‘Hey, it’s a card.’”
Rick, an assistant coach at Georgia, always believed in his kid brother, played with David at Florida and today helps directs his offseason workouts. When David was in high school, he considered joining Rick at Seminole Junior College, but Rick discouraged him, saying he was too good for that level. When David failed to attract Division I interest, he tried out at Florida as a walk-on.
Before practice began in October, Eckstein received permission to use the team’s batting cages and hit five days a week for six weeks. When Florida’s backup second baseman transferred, the coaches needed another player at that position to participate in two weeks of intrasquad games.
Enter Eckstein.
“In a walk-on tryout, you usually take five cuts, three ground balls and run the 60,” Eckstein explains. “The assistant told me if I didn’t have those two weeks, I wouldn’t have made it.”
Eckstein went on to gain a scholarship after his sophomore year and become an All-American as a junior. No major league team drafted Eckstein that year. The Red Sox only bit when he was a senior. Whitey Eckstein believes that Wrenn only recommended his son as a favor to Eckstein’s high school coach, Mike Powers. Wrenn denies that, but does it even matter?
All Eckstein wanted was a chance.
“I had a timetable for myself,” Eckstein says. “My family, my sisters were telling me, ‘Hey, give it a couple of years. But if you don’t feel like you’re doing it, we want you to go back to school.’ I was going to go to law school. That was my goal.”
GET A GRIP
One scout says Eckstein throws like a shortstop who has had three shoulder operations. Another doubts Eckstein could return to second long-term, saying, “Too many throws at second have to be short and flipped. He has to wind up to get anything on the ball.”
“I hate the way I throw,” Eckstein says. “That’s one thing I wish could look more natural, but it doesn’t. My main thing at shortstop is being in the right position to make sure I get my feet underneath me when I throw.”
Playing shortstop is difficult even for players with strong arms, yet Eckstein seized his opportunity with the Angels much as he had at Florida, replacing injured second baseman Adam Kennedy last opening day, then beating out Benji Gil at shortstop later in the season.
Angels first base coach Alfredo Griffin, who had an 18-year career in the majors, says he never has seen a player prepare as diligently as Eckstein. He occasionally will walk away from Eckstein, refusing to hit him any more grounders, only to find Eckstein coaxing additional work out of Scioscia or another coach.
“You can’t stop him,” Griffin says.
You can’t change him, either. Former major league shortstop Garry Templeton, the Angels’ Triple A manager last season, tried to get Eckstein to throw with two fingers in spring 2001 but was told by Griffin to stop. Eckstein also holds the ball tighter than most infielders. “I put a death grip on it,” he says, smiling.
Clearly, though, Eckstein is doing something right. His range isn’t especially good, but he knows the tendencies of each Angels pitcher and most opposing hitters. “He looks in, sees the pitch, knows that so-and-so throws 89 mph, recognizes swings,” Angels pitching coach Bud Black says. “Maybe he slides over a few feet after he sees the sign. But he just has that instinctive first step.”
Scioscia raves about Eckstein’s balance, saying it enables him to throw with maximum velocity. Scouts say Eckstein has no fear turning the double play, even when baserunners are on top of him. “He’s so in tune with every pitch,” Black says. “Some guys, over 21Ú2 to 3 hours, will become distracted. This guy doesn’t.”
Yet the Red Sox failed to grasp what was in front of them, viewing Eckstein for what he wasn’t, not for what he was. Boston snubbed him to name a higher draft pick its Player of the Year at Class A Lowell. And when the Red Sox needed to clear a spot for infielder Lou Merloni two years ago, general manager Dan Duquette bumped Eckstein from the 40-man roster.
The Angels were waiting. Scout Dale Sutherland, brother of Gary Sutherland, the Angels’ special assistant to the general manager, first was impressed by Eckstein in 1999 at Double-A Trenton. Gary Sutherland saw him four or five times that offseason in the Arizona Fall League. Another Angels scout, Jon Neiderer, filed more glowing reports early in 2000.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to envision a guy that size becoming a solid major league player,” Gary Sutherland says. “We really thought he would be one. And we wanted to have him to see that happen.”
When Eckstein’s name crossed the waiver wire, Sutherland told Angels general manager Bill Stoneman to jump.
“Who’s he?” Stoneman asked.
“A guy we want,” Sutherland said.
For $20,000, the price of a waiver claim, Eckstein entered the Angels organization.
LEADING BY EXAMPLE
Andy Lopez left Pepperdine to become coach at Florida after Eckstein’s freshman year. If Lopez made a suggestion — say, a better two-strike plan — Eckstein would get to work immediately. But not all of Florida’s players were as receptive, and Lopez made several controversial changes at the end of his first season.
“David called me and said, ‘Coach, I want to meet with you,’ ” recalls Lopez, who now is coach at Arizona. “I thought, ‘David’s from Florida. Maybe I’ve overstepped my bounds.’ But all he said was, ‘Coach, I want to know if my brother Rick can transfer here.’ When he said that, I knew for sure that we had the program on the right track.”
Florida went to the College World Series the following season, finishing third in the nation. Now the Angels are experiencing the same lift. Eckstein’s intensity rubs off on his teammates, Black says, making everyone better.
Buck Martinez, the former Blue Jays manager, views Eckstein as an example not just for the Angels but the entire sport. He says more talented players should look at Eckstein and ask, “If I played like that, how good could I be?”
“He reflects all that is good about baseball,” Martinez says. “Anybody can play it. Nobody can tell you that you can’t. As long as you believe in yourself, you can succeed.”
